


Chances

by Destinyawakened



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-23
Updated: 2012-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-31 14:56:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destinyawakened/pseuds/Destinyawakened
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU approach to the first two Nolan Movies, adding a twist of Tony Stark into the mix. Originally written as a prequel to another series, but I think it stands out alone by itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Like Fungus

It was another one of those stupid parties that Bruce Wayne continued to throw, to hide the fact that he really didn't care too much about the hobnob society around him. It had been exactly six months since Bruce had returned from Tibet and donned the cape and cowl to instill fear in the hearts of Gotham's underbelly. Pieces of him regretted it and the rest of him lived for it. This was what he had gone around the world to do – to learn. Being Batman and knowing that somehow he was making a difference made all the less positive things seem to disappear.

Like Rachel Dawes, his childhood friend. She believed in what Bruce was doing as Batman, but she didn't like the mask he wore daily, that covered the great man he truly was under the Kevlar and armor. She hated his act almost as much as he did. The fake smiles, the laughing through dull conversations and generally acting like a jackass. And until Bruce could drop the cowl for good and just be himself, he knew that Rachel would never accept him this way.

And yet she continued to show up to his parties, dressed the best she could afford, but always the most lovely he had ever seen her. She put a lot into how she looked, and Bruce suspected that it was to try and fit with the rest of his "friends". She denied it every time and soon Bruce just stopped asking; he accepted it and thanked her every time she came to support his "endeavors".

The event he was holding that evening was a fund raiser for the rebuilding parts of and better equipping Arkham Asylum. The idea was, of course, that once Bruce caught this nut job that had been running around Gotham for four months now – calling himself the Joker – that he would want Jim Gordon or Commissioner Loeb to lock him up where all criminally insane people should go. This was the third party he had held for this cause, it seemed a lot of people didn't quite care... but this time there seemed to be a bigger turn. Bruce suspected a lot of his pals had finally forgiven him for his outburst at his birthday party.

Rachel stood out on the balcony of the penthouse, holding a glass of champagne in one hand and looking out over the glamorous view the building provided. Gotham at night, lit by the neon lights of the city below them was almost as beautiful to look at as a clear night's sky. Bruce, his own champagne flute in hand, walked out to her side, glancing over her department store bought satin dress. She looked back at him as he approached, and smiled a little.

"Do you think it will work this time?" she asked, motioning to the party going on inside the room. "The last two times you barely raised one hundred thousand. I'm beginning to think it's a waste of time."

Bruce shrugged, a half heartened grin slipping across his lips. "I hope. There's three times as many attendees and more than half of them are some of Gotham's richest."

"Don't forget Malibu's richest as well," Rachel said, looking past Bruce, she motioned her glass at doors. Bruce furrowed his brow at her, turning at the waist to see just who she was talking about. Standing in the middle of the room, talking and laughing with many of Bruce's friends, was world known Tony Stark of Stark Industries. Briefly, his eyes caught Tony's and the man gave him a slight nod, raising his glass. Bruce turned back to Rachel.

"Did you invite him?" Rachel asked, concern thick in her voice.

"I don't even know him," Bruce replied. The reason Tony Stark was there was just as much a mystery to him as it obviously was to Rachel.

"Yet," came a voice from behind him, and Bruce turned once more this time coming face-to-face with Tony. He had out a hand and Bruce took it for a firm shake. "Tony Stark, you probably know who I am."

"Of course," Bruce said, but the truth was he had only heard bits about Tony since he'd been back. Six months was hardly a lot of time to catch up on the world he'd been away from for seven years. Bruce must have given it away in his tone, and Tony made a weird clicking noise with his tongue. He took a hold of Bruce's arm, turning to Rachel for a moment.

"Excuse me, Sweetheart, I'm gonna steal your boy here for minute," he said, warranting a rather annoyed look from Rachel, who folded her arms over her chest and watched as Tony lead Bruce into the penthouse. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

Bruce cocked his head to the side. "I wouldn't go as far as saying I have 'no idea'," Bruce replied with a smug laugh. "It's that I just don't care."

Tony studied him for a moment. "You know, Brucie, I'm a very good judge of character and I'm getting the feeling that this 'I don't care' attitude isn't really you."

"You can't judge someone you just met."

"Can't I?" Tony asked, taking Bruce's flute from him and downing the golden liquid from it. Bruce looked at him, astonished. "What? I know for a fact you weren't going to drink it. You've had a total of three glasses all night and each one has ended up in a planter."

Bruce had a lot of things he wouldn't have minded saying to Tony, but decided against it. "Why are you here?"

"To donate to your cause. And I was in town and heard about this swanky little get together you were throwing and thought, 'what better time to introduce myself to dear Bruce-boy'. And so, here I am." Tony smiled at him, a sweet little grin that made Bruce uncomfortable. Why would Tony Stark be 'in town'.

"You came for free booze?"

"And women. There's always so many drunk women at these things just dying for a good time," Tony said, gesturing to a few of the younger women, a couple Bruce had brought in himself (as he always did).

"Yeah, those two are with me," Bruce said about the two models making out in the corner. Tony raised an eyebrow at Bruce.

"Oh? Then why were you outside talking to the boring broad?" Tony hitched a thumb back towards the balcony and Bruce quickly stole a glance at Rachel who didn't look pleased.

"Rachel is my best friend..." Bruce began but Tony was shaking his head.

"You are screwing her though, right?" Tony asked. Bruce shook his head. "Then why are you bothering?" A small smile slipped onto Tony's lips and he bumped his shoulder into Bruce's. "Oh lighten up. This was exactly what I was talking about. The whole schmoozing and women thing isn't you."

Bruce only shrugged. So, Tony Stark could pick up on him and call him on his actions; the act didn't seem to slip by anyone else and that's what mattered. Tony was looking over the two models again, biting his lip. A waiter walked by with a tray of champagne and he pulled two flutes off and handed one to Bruce.

"So, since you aren't really interested in those two, can I...?" Tony asked, gesturing in the least crude way possible for what he was suggesting. Bruce actually smiled at that, bringing a hand to his face to try and cover it. "I saw that."

Bruce shook his head. "You didn't see anything."

Tony pushed a finger into Bruce chest, getting a little too close for Bruce's comfort. "No... I saw that smile. It was the first genuine smile I've seen on your face all night. You don't even smile at your gal pal like that," Tony paused and smiled more thoroughly. "You like me. I'm growing on you. Admit it."

"There is nothing to admit. I find you obnoxious and utterly annoying and you're observations are completely off target," Bruce said, plastering a fake smile on his face this time as he nodded at the people walking by.

Tony patted Bruce on the shoulder. "You can convince yourself that all you want. But, you'll know, someday, that I was right." Tony started to walk away from Bruce, his fingers slipping from the soft fabric of his suit. "Thanks for the company, by the way, Brucie. I'll be sure to get them a ride home later."

Bruce watched as Tony approached the two girls, an arm around each one, looking back only to wink at Bruce. Rachel came up to Bruce's side, tapping her toe. Bruce turned to her, seeing the annoyance on her face.

"What did the famous Tony Stark want?"

Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but when the answer he was looking for didn't come out, he stopped himself. What did Tony Stark want? The conversation had been fruitless and if Bruce didn't know any better, he'd have sworn it was just an excuse for Tony to meet Bruce and plant a seed.

"Bruce?" Rachel questioned, her voice growing more irritable.

"Business," Bruce said, lying to her.

"Hm," she said, "it seems he took your 'dates'."

Bruce shrugged. "You and I both know they'd both just end up drunk by the end of the evening and being driven home by Alfred."

"I bet," Rachel retorted. She crossed her arms and glared at Bruce for a moment. "I'm going to go home, Bruce. I hope the rest of your fund raiser goes well." Bruce turned to kiss her on the cheek, but she had already turned on her heels and was retrieving her jacket from the coat check. Bruce slid his hands into his pockets, not bothering to follow her. They'd had similar fall outs before; she'd come around in a few days.

"Bruce!" Tony said as he came back around with the two models, both giggling. "Stevie here has asked that you join us. I'm not opposed if you're down?" Tony grinned at him, looking at Bruce for some kind of emotion. That wasn't Bruce's thing, however, and he slowly shook his head.

"Not tonight, Stevie. I'm afraid I have to play host for a while longer and it looks as if you three are already set to go," Bruce took the blond's hand and kissed it, smiling at her with his biggest, most stunning smile. Tony ushered the girls forward to the lift.

"That's too bad, Wayne," he said giving Bruce a once over. He then pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and placed into Bruce's hand as he shook it. "I hope you raise enough tonight to get this city what it needs." And he was gone, leading with the girls down to the parking garage.

Bruce opened his palm and looked at the folded up check sitting there. He unfolded it and looked at the amount: one million dollars. Bruce slid the check into his pocket, trying to catch his breath. A man like Tony Stark was conceited and down right full of himself, but his heart was in the right place. Maybe Bruce had misjudged him. Bruce shrugged, maybe the man had grown on him a little.


	2. Batman

"Tell me, Brucie, what's your opinion on this masked vigilante known as Batman?" Tony Stark asked, seated across from Bruce at small cafe in downtown Gotham. Tony had made it a point to contact Bruce every day for a week, using what ever means were necessary. First day it was through Wayne Enterprises, second day it was coming to Penthouse unannounced (and nearly giving Alfred a heart-attack), and so on. By the sixth day Bruce finally gave Tony his cell phone number; it was much easier than allowing the man to keep overriding his security prompts for the elevator and Alfred having to call Lucius to fix it.

"My opinion?" Bruce asked, setting down his coffee mug. Tony nodded at him, relaxing back into his chair. The question was a bit opened, and Bruce would have had an easier time responding if he could just see Tony's eyes, read them a little. But Tony had complained of having a headache and left his sunglasses on. Likely just a hangover, if Bruce observed Tony's actions over the past week correctly.

Tony looked at Bruce expectantly when he took too long to answer. "It's not a rocket science question, Wayne. I know to keep the questions easy, but I didn't know I had to get them any simpler than that."

Bruce shook his head, trying his best not to grow annoyed with Tony. It was getting harder and harder to keep his facade under control around the other billionaire; acting completely oblivious around a man who was world known for being, quite possibly, the smartest man alive. Bruce didn't like to be belittled, especially by the likes of Tony Stark. Was it worth the risk, however, to let his guard down and have Tony completely figure him out? Tony was not going to get an honest opinion.

"A lot of people think he's helping, bringing the criminal rate down and instilling the fear that no one gets away with anything."

"That's great, but I asked what you thought."

Bruce parted his lips and let out an easy chuckle, forced if nothing else, but it seemed to go unnoticed by Tony. "I think... he's obviously crazy. Who honestly dresses up as a bat and expects to be taken seriously?"

Tony scratched at his goatee with his his long fingers, dipping his head so he was looking at Bruce over the rim of this sunglasses. "Not crazy. Idealistic." Tony pushed his glasses back over his eyes, taking a spoon and stirring his coffee lazily. "I think he sees the issue with Gotham City, something most people want to ignore. But if you ignore something for too long it doesn't just go away. 'Batman' isn't crazy, Bruce, he just knows what has to be done."

Bruce shifted just slightly in his seat; what did Tony Stark know about what needed to be done? Stark Industries mass produced weapons to do the exact thing that Bruce was trying to prevent. Wasn't Tony just feeding the fire, giving people like Joe Chill the chance to murder without thinking of consequence? It made Bruce slightly ill, a wrenching in his stomach, like an iron fist squeezing too tight. He tried to steady himself, regain control before Tony took notice.

"Does this topic of conversation upset you?" Tony asked, sipping his coffee.

"No, it's just a reminder that no one really knows what's best for Gotham, or how to tame her. Good people die trying to do that."

"Good people die everyday, Bruce. Whether helping the homeless or rooting for world peace, it doesn't matter," Tony said, finally removing his sunglasses. He placed them down on the table carefully, fingers lingering over them, letting his eyes roll up to meet Bruce's. "This 'Batman', I bet he knows that someday he may have to die in order to save Gotham."

Bruce ticked his head, shrugging. "Perhaps," he said, trying to force an understanding smile on his face.


	3. Capture

It wasn't exactly clear at first to Bruce as to what it was Tony was prodding around for when he asked the 'Batman' questions for the first time, and the talks of doing what needed to be done. In fact, Bruce was down right annoyed when it had become obvious, because he really should have known better. His head hurt thinking about it as Tony talked, making facial expressions that most would find at least a little funny, but Bruce was trying hard not to punch the man standing in front of him.

"It's a once in a life time opportunity, Bruce," Tony said, throwing an arm around Bruce's shoulder.

"It's murder," Bruce replied, completely unmoved and unwilling to show emotion to the other man. Tony tipped his head to the side, smirking at Bruce in annoyance.

"Murder? Stark Industries supplies our troops with weapons to defend themselves! To bring the terrorists down for the good our beautiful country. If anyone is 'killed' in the process it's merely a causality of war. But with my weapons, our men won't die. The other guys will."

Bruce shrugged Tony's arm off. "No, weapons..." he couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence, the flashback of his parents in the alley, shot to death, made his throat freeze.

"Look, Brucie," Tony said smoothly, taking off his sunglasses, folding them, and placing them neatly into his breast pocket. "I'm trying to fix the world, help those who need it. My country needs the weapons necessary to defeat the terrorists who're threatening to destroy our country. "

"Tony..."

Tony raised and hand to stop Bruce for going any further. "No, stop. Listen. I know you've seen first hand what terrorists can do. The run around with the eco-terrorists a few months ago, that fear-toxin running through Gotham City. Yeah, sure, you guys had Batman to put a stop to it... but don't you think he'd have an easier job if he'd had something more powerful than just himself?"

Bruce opened his mouth but he stopped for a second; how was it Tony knew Batman didn't use any firepower? Raising the question would mean Bruce would subject himself to the fact that no one should know that and only lead Tony to the point of asking straight out the question Bruce wasn't willing to answer... to anyone.

Tony leaned closer to Bruce. "Look, I know for a fact an average citizen of Gotham couldn't afford half the shit Batman is using. I'm not stupid, Wayne, I know your company is supplying the guy with what he needs. So in merging with my company, you could easily supply him with the weapons necessary to get the job done."

At least he didn't assume Bruce was Batman... at least.

"No," Bruce said.

"Come on," Tony prodded, "I know you want what's best for Gotham. This city needs a guy with more than just brute force. I'm sure you could get Batman to handle a gun..."

"I said no. Your company can continue to make and provide death to everyone around the world. My company will continue to be on the defensive and technical side." Bruce smiled, a fake little grin that suggested he wasn't talking about this any further.

"You're making a mistake, Wayne... This city will go down in flames!" Tony called as Bruce started to walk down the steps of the hotel.

"No," Bruce said as he stopped half way down, turning back to see Tony just standing there in awe. "The mistake was coming here in the first place."

\------

Bruce didn't think he'd ever really care what happened to Tony Stark, what he did or didn't do, but yet he found himself tuning into the news station as it covered a story on Tony going to Afghanistan to demonstrate a new weapon developed by Stark Industries. The name of it wasn't announced, but Bruce didn't need to know more when the breaking newa later on announced that Stark's convoy back to the airport was fired upon. The weapon was one that would be fought for, a killing machine.

"Few died during the attack and bodies were recovered. But the question still remains, where is Tony Stark?" the news reporter asked, showing a picture of Tony from earlier that day coming out of his plane at the Afghanistan airport. Tony's body hadn't been found and he wasn't back at the airport. Bruce assumed the second worse thing than being killed by terrorists... being captured by them.

A few days later that was exactly what he found out. Some footage sent to Stark Industries from a web-camera was leaked out and Tony was held captive after all. Bruce had paced the room, thinking of some way to go help him, but even with all the money in the world, he still didn't know exactly where Tony was. Not even the military could find him.

The biggest question in Bruce's mind was why he cared at all. Tony was thorn in his side, hardly a friend and everything he Bruce hated about the facade he played daily. But it was Tony, a man who made it a point to push Bruce into a friendship whether he wanted it or not.

Tony Stark was Bruce Wayne's friend.

But saving a man from terrorists he couldn't even find, was beyond Bruce's capabilities at that moment; he had a terrorists of his own to deal with in Gotham and he was getting so close to actually taking him down.

And Tony was smart; Bruce knew he would find his way back.


	4. Coming to Terms

Despite the fact that Bruce had been trying hard to catch the terrorist known only as the Joker, he was also in midsts of bringing down the mob once and for all. The latter seemed more likely to happen, and the Joker wasn't anything more than a menace. He would easily be taken care once Bruce put a stop to the cash flow supplying the corrupt in Gotham's underbelly. And in the middle of all of it, right during a time where Bruce thought he was on the edge of losing everything – even his own sanity – Tony Stark, presumed dead after three months missing, was found.

Bruce hadn't caught the details on where they found him or his condition, just that Lucius merely mentioned it to another board member in passing and Bruce happened to hear. The question that poised in his mind two seconds longer than it really should have, was if he could afford to leave Gotham for a day and fly to Malibu? The answer was indefinitely no; Bruce had just come back from China to get Lau for Dent and Gordon, he couldn't really afford to be gone again.

But when Bruce caught the news footage mentioning Tony's return, he made up his mind quickly. He turned to Alfred, determined, and the elder gentlemen sighed and shook his head, but didn't argue.

"I'll call to ready the jet, sir," he said, pulling the house phone from his apron pocket. The call was quick. He turned to Bruce who was buttoning his suit jacket. "What excuse shall I give the guests tonight at Mister Dent's party?"

"None, Alfred. I won't be gone long."

\------

Bruce arrived at the airport in Malibu just a hour before Tony Stark's plane was due in. There was a sleek black car waiting with a very nervous looking red head standing beside it. She was fidgeting, adjusting the folders in her hands. Bruce put on his best grin, his brightest most charming attitude he could muster, and approached the woman.

"Hi," he said smoothly, holding out his hand to her, in which she put hers and he kissed the tops of her fingers. "Bruce Wayne and you are...?"

"Potts, Pepper Potts," she said confidently. Bruce's smile widened. This was Tony's personal assistant.

"Lovely to meet you, Miss Potts," Bruce let go of her hand, motioned to the people around him. There were tons of reporters and for once, no one was even noticing Bruce Wayne; he sort of liked it. "Amazing that they found Mister Stark."

Pepper nodded, a small and yet curious smile on her face. "It really is a relief," she said with a little sigh.

"Afraid you'd be out of a job?" Bruce asked, teasing.

"Oh, no.. I mean I'm sure Mister Stane would have found me something..."

"Or you'd just have to come work for me," Bruce butted in, throwing another charming smile her direction.

Pepper blushed a shade almost the color of her hair. "Oh, well... Perha--"

"Good thing he's back," Bruce cut her off, seeing how uncomfortable she had gotten. "I'd hate to have to move you to Gotham City."

She loosened up, the tension in her shoulders subsiding a little. "I hear it's not that bad."

"Can't believe everything you hear." He continued to chat with Potts, mainly about Tony and the business, until the plane touched down. Bruce took his cue and faded into the background, watching from a distinctive distance. All Bruce wanted to see was that Tony was safe, unharmed, and his usual asshole self.

The man, dressed a clean suit, arm in a splint and foiled with cuts and bruises, walked off the cargo plane and was immediately met by Potts. Bruce was no where close enough to hear them, but he could read lips pretty well, and they were joking about her job. Ironic.

As Tony was walked to his car, Pepper briefly motioned in Bruce's direction and Tony made a quick, quizzical glance his way. Bruce didn't hold any eye contact and quickly retreated back to his own jet. Tony was in fine shape, a little beat up, but he wasn't dead and he wasn't dying.

It was all the Gotham Prince needed to see.

\-----

"You know, most people who fly across the country to visit me at least stay a bit and have a few pleasantries," Tony's voice said on the other end of the Bruce's cell phone.

"My visit was called back unexpectedly. Work, the office, business meetings, you know," Bruce replied coldly, not wanting to make it sound like he had actually cared what happened to Tony.

"You didn't even give me as much as a 'hello' or anything. Quite frankly, I'm hurt."

"I'm sure you'll get over it," Bruce mumbled into the receiver, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear. He attempted to knot the tie around his neck. The helicopter was do to pick him and his three dates up any minute.

"Maybe. You'll just have to make it up to me." There was a pause and then Tony spoke again, uneasy; "Bruce?"

"Hm?"

"You were right," Tony sighed, there was a little strain in his voice. "You were right to turn down my offer." Another pause. "I... I don't know if you've seen the news or heard, by any means, but Stark Industries is no longer making weapons."

"No, I hadn't heard," Bruce said plainly, trying to keep his opinions on it to himself.

"I..." Tony drifted, and I was silent. "Well, we should catch up some time soon."

"Sure."

"I'll call you when things get sorted out here. Maybe I'll make it easy on you and fly over to Gotham."


	5. Revelation

Bruce stood in a room full of cops, reporters, photographers and the general public. Harvey Dent, Rachel's boyfriend (to whom despite their relationship, Bruce still admired), stood at a podium, speaking about saving Gotham and what had to be done. Bruce, as Batman, told Dent the evening before that he was going to come clean and reveal himself so the madness that the Joker was pouring on the city could end.

Dent turned to the police next to him, to announce that Batman would turn himself in as the crowd got a little more rowdy, Bruce shifted and started for the stage, but Dent did the unexpected and Bruce found himself conflicted.

"I am The Batman," Dent said as the officers cuffed his wrists, pulling him off the stage. Bruce froze in horror; what did Dent think he was doing? Dent was the last best thing left in the city, with Jim Gordon dead...

"I never expected that," came a voice from behind Bruce. He turned slowly, looking at a well trimmed Tony Stark. "I suppose you did, given you supply him everything he needs."

Bruce shook his head. "He's not Batman," he replied, pushing past Tony to get out to the streets, to breath fresh air and figure out what he was going to do.

Tony was following him. "He's not? Who is then?"

"I don't see that as your business," Bruce stated.

"Why would he take such a risky move then? Pretending to be Batman is..."

"Dangerous. He's using himself as bait," Bruce sighed, pacing the sidewalk, hands in his pockets. Tony was just staring at him.

"Why do you care so much? You claim you aren't supplying Batman, and yet you're way more involved than you should be." Tony put his hand out to stop Bruce, placing it on his chest. Bruce paused, looking into Tony's eyes for a moment. It was evident that Tony was placing pieces together... keeping this from him would be hard. Thankfully, Bruce didn't have to say anything.

"Look, Bruce... Let's go get some lunch somewhere semi-private."

"Tony, I can't, I have a million things that need to get done..." Bruce started to say, but Tony had his arm around Bruce's shoulder, leading him towards his own car.

"You can take two hours out of your day to catch up with your best friend," Tony said, shoving Bruce into the passenger seat and locking the door. He slid into the other side. "Besides, you owe me."

They drove to the Ritz, Bruce was able to convince them for a private dining area. They sat in silence for a bit until Tony ordered a scotch and Bruce water. Tony smiled over at Bruce and began to loosen his tie.

"I really wanted to talk to you sooner," Tony said, removing his tie completely. "To apologize, honestly. The way I was pushing you about the weapons deal, I feel terrible for it."

"Tony..." Bruce started, knowing full well what he was getting at, because it had been all over the news and when Bruce finally caught up with it he knew exactly why the man was so apologetic. Being held captive by your own weapons by terrorists would do that.

Tony shook his head and began to unbutton his shirt. "Bruce, It took a near death experience for me to see what you meant. I was on the verge of being killed by the very weapons I manufacture. If not for the fact that those terrorists wanted me alive, I'd be dead."

Bruce watched as Tony's fingers slipped over the last button, pulling his shirt apart to reveal a white undershirt with something glowing on Tony's chest under it. Bruce's eyes immediately jumped back up to Tony's, questioningly.

"A bomb blew up right next to me. One of my bombs. I have shrapnel lodged in my heart," Tony said, lifting his undershirt to give Bruce a better look at the device there. "This is keeping it from moving further down and killing me. It's a mini arc reactor. A high powered magnate, really."

Bruce just stared, pieces of the news in the past week were flashing in his mind, the arrival of what the press was calling Iron Man, a self made super hero in red and gold armor, destroying the terrorist base in the middle east. Bruce remembered seeing pictures, seeing a power source on the suit that looked like the one in Tony's chest now.

"Do you know what you're getting yourself into?" Bruce asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the glow of the reactor.

"No, but when do I ever?" Tony sighed. "It wasn't until after I got back, after I had time to think everything over that I really started to understand you, Bruce Wayne."

Bruce shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"I never could understand why you pranced around town with a new girl on your arm every night, pretending to be interested, pretending to have sex with them, pretending pretending pretending. And the airhead act, too. Ridiculous as it was at first, I get it now. Or, at least the reason for it."

Bruce just stared at him. Tony rolled his shirt down over his chest and buttoned it back.

"I get what drives you now. At first I thought you were just some angsty playboy that couldn't get over his parents dying, but once the whole picture become crystal clear, I realized that it was more than that. You wanted something better for everyone else, so they don't have to suffer the way you did."

"I don't know what you're trying to get at, Tony, but –"

"Don't play stupid with me, Wayne. I've seen past that. I know. You cover it well, because no one would suspect a billionaire dunce to flying around the city and save people. But, I saw through your little game."

Bruce clenched his jaw, teeth gritted behind his closed lips. He tried to smile, but it was useless to pretend when the company he was keeping wouldn't buy it. "You still don't know what you're doing."

"And you do? You've been at this.. what a year? I'm sure even you still question yourself."

"Every day."

Silence. Tony sipped his scotch.

"What will you do tonight?"

"Save Dent. Take down the Joker."

"Need help?"

"No. You're staying out of this," Bruce said sternly. "If I so much as see you out there tonight, you will regret it."

Tony smirked. "I wouldn't dream of prancing on your limelight, Brucie."


	6. Friends Part A

It hadn't been until Bruce was in the building and staring at Harvey Dent struggling on the floor, laying in a pool of gasoline, that Bruce's heart sank. If Jim Gordon didn't get to Rachel in time, if he didn't save her the way Batman was about to save Dent, then...

He wouldn't think about it.

He could still hear her voice over a speaker in the room, as she was trying to tell Dent it would be okay. It wasn't a good sign, he shouldn't be able to hear her if Gordon had gotten there one time, there was still a few seconds. Bruce grabbed Dent, dragging him kicking and screaming from the room, and out of the building just as it blew.

Bruce didn't have time to dwell or think -- Dent had caught fire. Bruce worked quickly to roll him, to put him out but the gasoline had worked quickly, burning up the side of Dent's body. When Gordon finally arrived, Bruce let the paramedics take control of Dent and Bruce stood staring at Gordon in question, for a answer. He didn't see Rachel and it meant just one thing...

"We didn't get there in time," Gordon said quietly to Batman in passing, not even meeting his eyes. Bruce looked out over the rubble of the building, parts still ablaze as the firemen worked to get it out completely.

This was it, this was the end of everything Bruce had left, everything that had meant something.

Rachel Dawes was dead.

\-----

Bruce watched Alfred leave, his footsteps sounding lightly down the marble floor. Bruce turned his gaze back to the cowl in his hands. He had failed her, he had failed Dent, Gordon... Everyone. And there was no redeeming it, there was no going back and fixing it all. There was nothing. Bruce looked at the cowl and threw it at the large bullet-proof glass window. It hit with a thump and then plopped down onto the floor. Bruce closed his eyes and, shaking his head.

There wasn't a thing left. He'd lost it all.

"Your butler told me you were in here," came a voice from beside him. Bruce opened his eyes and Tony Stark stood there, head slightly tipped to the side. He looked from Bruce to the cowl by the window. He slowly walked over and picked it up, turning it in his hands. He sighed and placed it down on the table next to Bruce, taking a seat.

"What are you doing here?" Bruce muttered.

"I came to see if you were okay," Tony replied quietly, his voice was calming. "Do you want to... talk about it?"

"Do you know?"

"About what happened? Yes. It's all over the news."

"Did you know... before?" Bruce raised his eyes, scornful and hard, to meet Tony's.

The emotions in Tony's eyes fell and he looked down at his hands briefly. "I heard something about it."

Bruce gritted his teeth, keeping back a small choking in his throat. "You didn't do anything?"

"I made a promise, Bruce. I really try not to break those," Tony sighed, keeping his voice a steady tone, not wanting to upset Bruce further.

There was silence for a few moments, and Bruce could feel Tony trying to assess him, to figure out what it was Bruce needed to hear, if anything. Bruce didn't want anything from Tony, all he really wanted for the man to leave... Tony knew what had happened and he didn't do a thing to help. But that was Bruce's fault; he told him not to help and Tony obediently did as he was asked.

"She's dead," Bruce said finally, in a voice so soft he could barely even hear himself. He looked over at Tony, tears welling in his eyes and making it hard to see the man next to him. "She said she would wait for me. She..."

"She lied to you," Tony corrected slowly. He held up a hand before Bruce could get in another word of protest. "I only met her the few times, but it was obvious she was never going to accept the reasons you do what you do or try to stop changing you back to what you were before you returned to Gotham. I know you loved her Bruce, but she wasn't going to wait."

Bruce shook his head. "You can't know that. You didn't know Rachel..."

"I didn't need to talk to her to know her. From what you told me and from her body language when around you... And the letter she left you. It was obvious."

"Letter?" Bruce eyes scanned Tony's face.

"The one Alfred has... Oh, he didn't show you," Tony said standing up. "Let me go get it from him." But Bruce pulled him back down, and Tony was kneeling in front of him now.

"No, if he didn't show me it was for a reason. You can just tell me what it said," Bruce said quietly, his eyes begging Tony to tell him, but Tony seemed reluctant now. "Please."

Tony sighed, reaching out and touching either side of Bruce's face with his hands, holding them there as he gazed into Bruce's eyes. "She wasn't going to wait for you. She promised to marry Dent."

Bruce took a hold of Tony's wrists and pushed his hands away. "Get out," he said quietly at first. Tony didn't budge. "GET OUT!" Bruce yelled, standing and walking out of the room. He didn't need to hear Tony's lies, he didn't need that now. He knew the man didn't like Rachel, but for him to go this below the belt this time... was too much.

\-----

It was late October, just after locking the Joker in Arkham, just after burying Dent, just after Gordon took an ax to the Batsignal... Bruce stood at Rachel's grave, looking over the headstone and wondering where he went wrong. The newly packed in dirt covered the ground, muddy and puddled from the rain. He'd been standing there since they put the dirt down; hours by now.

"Someday you'll have to move past this."

Bruce turned his head over his shoulder, Tony was there.

"She's gone, Bruce."

"I know," Bruce said. Tony stopped next to him and took his hand gently, tugging on his fingers.

"You don't need to be here." And Tony lead him away from the grave and Bruce felt suddenly grateful for Tony.

"I asked Alfred about the letter. He burned it. But you were right. She wasn't going to wait for me," Bruce admitted softly. "I've lost everything."

Tony stopped and turned to Bruce, placing his hands on his shoulders. "No, that's not true," he said, a smirk forming on his lips. "You have me."


	7. Tony's Point of View

Tony Stark had been watching Bruce Wayne for a while. Starting with the Penthouse charity party, going to his evaluations of Bruce when he asked him about Batman, through the younger man's reaction to Tony asking him to team up to help him build weapons for the government, and ending with Bruce sitting before him, on the verge of tears and completely broken. Tony wasn't moved often, if ever that he can really remember, but at that moment I wanted nothing more than to take Bruce away from it all and fix it for him.

But that wasn't going to happen. Bruce was too stubborn to let anyone do things for him, let alone Tony Stark.

Tony knew that this was best for Bruce – Rachel dying was an omen of sorts if Tony actually believed in those sorts of things. She was a conniving little bitch, who often lied to Bruce's face about everything. Sure, they had been friends since childhood, but somewhere along the way the two of them saw different paths, no matter how much Bruce wanted to think they were on the same track. Tony saw the moment he laid on Bruce, Rachel at his side; he just knew that they didn't click, that she was constantly trying to evaluate him, change him.

And it happened, one evening when Tony was in town on business and Bruce was no where to be seen, that he ran into Rachel Dawes. It was the night just after Dent had been taken custody and Rachel was headed back to the office, to figure out what she could do other than worry. Tony had seen it, had already told Bruce he'd stay out of it. So when he had seen Rachel, Tony took her by the arm and lead her to a near by bar and proceeded to question her motives.

Tony could see through her, could that she didn't care for Bruce the way that he cared for her. It wasn't fair, by any means.

"I see it," he had said to her.

"See what?" she had asked.

"Be honest, you don't love Bruce and you don't care about him the way you tell him you do."

"You have no right..."

"No, I do. I've been more honest with him than you have been since you started dating Dent. The question is, does Bruce have a place in your life or are you leading him along because you know it's what he wants?"

"I'm..." she had been so hesitant, and it was then that Tony knew she was going to break Bruce one way or another.

So when Bruce started to mumble about Rachel, when he was on the verge of hysterics talking about her being dead and how she was going to wait for him, Tony snapped.

"She lied to you," Tony corrected Bruce slowly, seeing the confusion cluttered under his sad eyes. He held up a hand, shaking his head slowly before Bruce could even protest. "I only met her the few times, but it was obvious she was never going to accept the reasons you do what you do or try to stop changing you back to what you were before you returned to Gotham. I know you loved her Bruce, but she wasn't going to wait."

Bruce was in denial, Tony could see it written on his face, the blank hollow look in his eyes and the unconscious shaking of his head. "You can't know that. You didn't know Rachel..."

"I didn't need to talk to her to know her. From what you told me and from her body language when around you... And the letter she left you. It was obvious." Now, Tony was only told by Rachel about the letter, but in terms of keeping Bruce from losing his mind completely, Tony'd keep that to himself.

"Letter?" Bruce eyes scanned Tony's face.

"The one Alfred has... Oh, he didn't show you," Tony said standing up. He hoped Alfred still had it anyway. "Let me go get it from him." But stopped him, taking his hand tugging him back and down. Tony got to his knees in front of Bruce. Such hopelessness, though sad and depressing, was incredibly beautiful on Bruce.

"No, if he didn't show me it was for a reason. You can just tell me what it said," Bruce said quietly. His eyes were pleading with Tony, and all Tony could really hear for a split moment was the light hum of the arc reactor as the room grew still. Bruce pressed again. "Please."

And who was Tony to refuse the Prince of Gotham. But oh how Tony wished the witch hadn't died and had the guts to confront and tell Bruce herself. Too late now and Tony was already in shin deep. He reached over and placed his hands on either side of Bruce's face; he needed this to be as caring and personal as possible, not really an easy feat for him.

He looked into Bruce's eyes. "She wasn't going to wait for you. She promised to marry Dent." But apparently it wasn't personal enough, or maybe Tony had gone about it the wrong way, because Bruce took a hold of Tony's wrists and and pushed his hands away.

"Get out," he said quietly at first, but Tony didn't move, just kept his place at Bruce's feet. He wasn't going to be easily defeated. He wasn't going to walk away from this. "GET OUT!" Bruce yelled when he obviously wasn't getting what he wanted from Tony. The younger man stood abruptly, causing Tony to fall back a little. Bruce left the room and all Tony could do was watch after him.

It would be sometime before Bruce Wayne got over Rachel Dawes, it would be time before he realized that everything he thought he had he never really had at all. Tony would be there though when Bruce needed him, whether the other billionaire was willing to admit he needed someone or not.

\-----

Tony watched from his car for hours as Bruce just stood over the fresh packed grave of Rachel Dawes. It broke his hypothetical heart to watch the man continue to dwell on her. She was a worm that had crawled into his ear and fed him some vicious lies. Tony knew she had never liked him, thought he was everything Bruce was pretending to be and with Bruce being friends with him... it meant Bruce might become him.

That was ludicrous; if there was ever man who wasn't like Tony Stark, it was Bruce Wayne.

Having had enough, Tony got out of the car and walked over to Bruce. Whether or not the man sensed him there, he didn't show it. Tony kept his hands in his pockets and just watched him for a few minutes. What he would give to break down every barrier Bruce had built around himself – to actually hold the man the way he was meant to be held and show him that not every one would be like Rachel. Not everyone would lie to him. Not everyone would love him and run.

That wasn't exactly possible. Bruce, a purely heterosexual man, had not even once looked at Tony the way he had ever looked at Rachel. Tony knew when he was barking up the wrong tree, or attempting to, and pulled the brakes out on that one quick.

"Someday you'll have to move past this," Tony said, breaking the silence that stood between them, thick since the other day when Bruce had yelled at him. The younger man seemed more at ease now as he turned his head over his shoulder to look at Tony.

Bruce didn't say anything.

"She's gone, Bruce."

"I know," Bruce said quietly. Tony took the few steps that had been left between them, and gently took Bruce's hand and tugged on his fingers.

"You don't need to be here," Tony replied simply, leading Bruce away from the grave. Bruce actually smiled at Tony, it wasn't much but it was enough to prove that Tony was doing the right thing being there.

"I asked Alfred about the letter. He burned it. But you were right. She wasn't going to wait for me," Bruce admitted softly. "I've lost everything."

More of that, Tony thought. He quickly stopped walking and turned to Bruce, placing his hands firmly on Bruce's shoulders. He waited for the other man to meet this eyes. It was going to take a while for Bruce to realize that he had other people in his life besides Rachel, but until then, Tony would gladly remind him.

"No, that's not true," Tony said, a smirk forming on his lips. "You have me."


End file.
